


Weathered Photos

by MaybeWren



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Lockets, Ram Hybrid Jschlatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeWren/pseuds/MaybeWren
Summary: Two boys are permanently frozen in the photos, unrecognizable from their current selves.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Weathered Photos

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily based on Born2Run by Penelope Scott. [Please go check it out.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94hCqxCKy9E)

Wilbur yanks on his beanie and clicks the button on his communicator. He vanishes and appears in the famed nether hub. He stares in slight awe at the different photos and tunnels. Someone flings their arm around Wilbur and he jumps. He turns and Schlattt smiles at him. Wilbur grins back, recognizing him from different challenge worlds. 

Wilbur helps Schlatt with his many schemes and attempts to con the newbies. Schlattcoin and Whalebur Soot being two obvious examples. Wilbur runs from the cops countless times but still continues with his potions. It’s never serious, everything’s in good fun. Nobody stays mad for long. Everyone gets back at each other in one way or another. Practically everyone’s done something sketchy.

Wilbur joins Schlatt’s laughing. He tries to fight back another peel of laughter in an attempt to finish his drink. The air still carries the aftermath of their sleep-deprived shenanigans. Night has long since fallen and now Wilbur leans against Schlatt. It had been a rather successful day of chaos and fun. Although it hadn’t been anything too extreme, there still had been amazing amounts of chaos.

Schlatt flips one of his coins. “I’m gonna be an emperor someday. You can’t laugh at me with that.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes and speaks, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, and I’ll be the fucking president.”

Schlatt laughs. “Are you kidding me? Just look at yourself,”

He gestures at Wilbur’s beanie and yellow sweater as though his blue one isn’t practically the same.

Wilbur shrugs and a grin paints his face. “I’m not gonna change myself for some stuck-up pricks.”

Schlatt leans back. “Well I’m gonna at least wear a suit.”

“Oh fuck off,” Wilbur says and pushes Schlatt over. 

Schlatt sputters and Wilbur tilts over laughing. He swears as he spills his drink everywhere. Schlatt pushes Wilbur over and the two roll across the floor. Both try their best to incapacitate the other, neither quite succeeding. They’re just two kids fucking around. There’s no consequences that aren’t in good fun. No real rules confine them, most of the ones that exist Wilbur breaks for fun. Neither of them truly believe their earlier words. Both of them ignore the reality of eventually growing up and apart from each other. They’ve promised each other the world during so many of their late nights. Leaves dance in the wind oblivious to the two of them. No one has made any attempts to rake them into piles, just letting them do their own thing.

* * *

Wilbur looks at the familiar photo weathered with time. Two kids are caught mid laugh, one in a yellow sweater and the other in blue. Wilbur can barely recognize his younger self, a far cry from the desperate rebel he is today.

Wilbur looks back out at Manburg, no longer welcome in his own country. They’re not kids anymore. They’re no longer attached at the hip. People used to mistake them for brothers, and now they’re on opposite sides of a rebellion. Wilbur snaps the locket shut and tucks it back under his shirt. Even after all that’s happened, He’s not going to take it off. It’s the last reminder of his past. Schlatt has a matching one, though Wilbur’s not sure if he wears it anymore. The photo is far more composed and serious, taken moments before the one in Wilbur’s.

He makes his way into Manburg, making sure to remain unseen. Wilbur’s used to the familiar embrace of the shadows. He used to linger for pranks, and now it’s for safety. Nobody seems to want to do anything productive against Schlatt. Dream wants him to destroy the country, Tommy wants him to save their friends, Techno wants complete anarchy. Wilbur’s not sure how to solve their problems anymore.

He enters Schlatt’s house with ease. There’s no real attempts to keep him out. Wilbur’s not sure if that’s on purpose or if Schlatt’s truly grown that arrogant. He’s more inclined to believe the latter. Schlatt enters the room moments after him. Schlatt immediately starts laughing and Wilbur curls his hands into fists. He wants nothing more than to punch Schlatt. They were supposed to have been friends. Schlatt’s laughing at the hollowness in Wilbur’s cheeks and the bags that reside under his eyes.

“You’re actually running a rebellion like that? You could blow over in the wind,” Schlatt grins.

Wilbur glares at Schlatt. “Your people are in pain, and that’s what you’re focusing on? Do you not realize how much you’re hurting everyone?” He exclaims.

“My citizens fucking love me. You’re the one causing problems,” Schlatt says. 

Wilbur gives in to the temptation and decks him. It’s far stronger than their play fights as children. He just wanted the sleazy smile on Schlatt’s face gone. It’s nothing like the childish grins they used to share.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, are you really that fucking oblivious? Everyone’s suffering and you’re doing nothing. I would have helped you do literally anything. But no, all you’ve done is exile me and sit on your ass,” Wilbur shouts.

“Wilbur?” Schlat asks, voice shaky and uncertain. He stares at Wilbur, jaw slack and eyes uncertain. Wilbur’s fairly sure he’s never gotten genuinely angry in front of him, much less at him.

He doesn’t reply. He can’t reply. Tears escape Wilbur's eyes and he’s quick to wipe them off. Schlatt’s frozen in place, obviously unsure what to do. Wilbur gives a tired chuckle. The exiled rebel leader is crying in the house of the current president who used to be his best friend. Wilbur sucks in a breath, trying to still his shaking hands. He’s not supposed to break here.

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of freedom,” Wilbur recalls as he reaches hands toward his neck. He gives a dark chuckle. “I thought you believed in those too. I thought I could trust you. You were my best friend.” The clasp comes undone and Wilbur pulls off the locket. “I guess it meant nothing to you.” He loosely grips the locket in his hand and Schlatt looks up at him.

“You kept it?” He whispers and Wilbur nods. Schlatt silently reaches up and takes off his own locket.

He steps next to Wilbur and pops his open. Wilbur follows suit. Two young boys stare up at them permanently frozen in place. The soft sweaters are far different from the crisp suit and worn trench coat. Wilbur couldn’t begin to count the number of times he’s been tempted to destroy it. He silently looks at Schlatt, eyes puffy and red from crying. Schlatt looks back, a distinct lack of their characteristic fire. Wilbur silently shuts the locket and shoves it into his pocket. Schlatt carefully places his inside the front pocket of his suit. Wilbur turns and leaves.

“I’m sorry,” He can barely hear Schlatt say as he shuts the door. Wilbur doesn’t answer.

They’re not children anymore. Each action has a reaction, and they’re walking on a minefield. The next step is uncertain, and the consequence unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so fucking tired. I have so much homework and it's a bad fatigue day. I'm suffering. We'll see if I'm able to write today, however I'm doing my best to be disciplined and hold it hostage until my homework is done. I just want to sleep.
> 
> [Main Tumblr](https://maybewren.tumblr.com/)  
> [Photography Tumblr](https://maybetherephotos.tumblr.com/)  
> [Poetry Tumblr](https://maybetherewriting.tumblr.com/)


End file.
